


love to hate you

by sepiatoned



Category: T@gged (Web Series)
Genre: Chaptered, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Rivalry, Sean is just there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23326588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepiatoned/pseuds/sepiatoned
Summary: Trevor wasn’t sure when his feud with Brandon Darrow began.It was a sort of omnipresent thing, something that followed the pair from grade to grade, school to school, an infinite loop of absolutely despising each other. Trevor never tired of arguing with Brandon, getting under his skin, and he knew Brandon felt the same.The one where Trevor's not sure if he hates Brandon, or hates how Brandon makes his heart flutter.
Relationships: Trevor Askill/Brandon Darrow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	love to hate you

Trevor wasn’t sure when his feud with Brandon Darrow began.

It was a sort of omnipresent thing, something that followed the pair from grade to grade, school to school, an infinite loop of absolutely  _ despising  _ each other. Trevor never tired of arguing with Brandon, getting under his skin, and he knew Brandon felt the same.

It was a nice exchange. Almost endearing, Trevor thought to himself, zoning out during AP Euro. His mind shifted to wondering why he was even in this class, why the counselors in the guidance department didn’t move him to a CP. Given the way his grades plummeted during the last two months of junior year, Trevor was surprised he was even able to pass into senior year.

With the sound of a bell, he swung his bag over his shoulder, blasted the volume of his beloved Sennheisers, and swiftly exited, ignoring the sound of his teacher’s voice quietly suggesting he stay after school to review. She should’ve known better than to try, Trevor thought, he was a lost cause and no amount of prodding would change that.

The hall was an interesting battleground, a fun  _ Where’s Waldo _ -esque game for Trevor to play during passing periods. He searched for everyone, every cliche of a person there could be, trying to find them amidst the sea of students. Whether it be jocks, Tik-Tokers, furries, the kids who  _ definitely  _ had a Twitter account dedicated solely to Timothee Chalamet, they were all there, laid out in front of Trevor to observe and notate. The only person Trevor actively tried to avoid was-

Brandon.

He walked the halls with pride, like being around so many people gave him power, like the Starman in Mario Kart- invincible. It was the only setting where Trevor was intimidated by Brandon, truly, actively avoided him, and felt smaller. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know why. Trevor did everything in his power to avoid certain truths- both a blessing and a curse.

Today Brandon seemed extra abrasive; a certain gleam in his eyes made Trevor bite the insult forming at his lips back and turn down his music, curious to see what Brandon would do.

But Brandon didn’t do anything, much to Trevor’s surprise, except stare dead forward and walk. “What the fuck,” Trevor mumbled.

Down the hall further was Rowan. Trevor considered her to be one of his two friends, (the other being Sean, who Trevor would never admit he knew). They didn’t have much choice, becoming friends, after his dad replaced the hole in Rowan’s picture perfect family, and they moved into a slightly too small suburban home together, and suddenly, they were step-siblings. Trevor wasn’t too fond of it at first, but now? He wouldn’t change a thing. 

Trevor was also pretty certain Rowan knew him better than he knew himself, because as soon as he was in front of her, she asked, “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Nothing happened,” Trevor explained, setting the headphones around his neck and leaning against the wall. He didn’t care if he was late to class- it was only a study in the library. “Nothing’s wrong. Why are you asking?”

Maybe he came off a bit harsh, because Rowan raised her eyebrows. “Watch it,” she chuckled, setting her back right beside his on the brick wall, “I’m just making sure. I can never tell if you’re actually pissed or it’s just resting bitch face.”

“Resting bitch face, I guess.” He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Plus my head fucking kills.”

“Your head always kills,” Rowan explained, a gentle reminder of sorts. Trevor supposed she was right. Whether or not it actually hurt or he just said that as an excuse to however he was acting in that moment, he wasn’t sure. But he did cry wolf a lot. “If it’s that bad, go to the nurse-”

Trevor cut her off, something he didn’t mean to do. “Wanna go for a drive?”

There was a beat of silence, in which Trevor thought Rowan would yell at him for cutting her off, or laugh in his face for suggesting such a  _ ridiculous  _ idea. That thought went away as quickly as it came. Rowan would never. Trevor knew that.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment, “I already finished my Calc project, so… Let’s go.”

And, so they did. Trevor felt a weight come off his shoulders.

He loved his sister. And still, he hated Brandon Darrow.

*

The next day was the same.

Except for the fight.

Trevor had been in line, waiting for an undercooked and overpriced lunch, when out of the corner of his eye he saw Rowan. Trevor noticed how angry she looked, how upset, how her eyebrow wrinkled and her mouth opened quickly and suddenly. Trevor knew something was wrong. 

Trevor left his tray on the counter, much to the lunch lady’s dismay, and swiftly made his way to the scene, Rowan’s agitated voice becoming much clearer. 

“Fuck off, Brandon,” she snapped, slamming her hands on the table. People were looking now. “And leave Trevor alone. I’m sick of this shit, every day. Leave us alone.”

Trevor’s face fell when he heard that name,  _ Brandon,  _ and his eyes followed Rowan’s gaze and laid upon him. His hands balled into fists, his chest rose and fell quickly, his vision blurred-- and suddenly he was running forward, swinging, knuckles meeting cheek, a sting in his wrist  _ ow, ow,  _ and Trevor was being hit now, back on the floor. He lost all sense of where he was and all he knew was hit, hit, fight back, make this asshole suffer-

“Trevor!” Sean was running in now, grabbing Trevor from under his arms and pulling him back, while Trevor shouted and fought against him. But he grew tired quickly, going nearly limp in his friend’s arms, and he brought a sleeve to his face and wiped it. Blood smeared across his face and his newly bought sweater; something his father would lecture him about once the news found him. Only then did he register the pain in his jaw, and once his vision returned, he saw Brandon in a similar predicament, holding his eye and glaring at Trevor.

Before either of them had the chance to speak, the curt voice of Principal Harris bellowed, “Office. Now.” Trevor flickered his eyes up to meet the unfortunate looking man, aged, tired, decrepit. Though the man couldn’t physically drag him, he had everyone in the town wrapped around his finger,  _ that fucking weasel,  _ and Trevor knew that if he fought, Harris would make his life even more of a hell than it already was. So he rose, gave a glare to Brandon, and followed Harris, without a word. He snuck a glance to Rowan, who was staring at him teary eyed and firm, but didn’t say a word. She would save the lecture for later that evening.

Trevor sat down in Harris’ office, staring silently ahead. Only then did he realize that Brandon had been following the two, as he crossed in front of Trevor and sat in the seat beside him. Harris was nowhere to be found-- Trevor hadn’t even realized he’d abandoned the party.

They sat in agonizing silence for what could’ve been years, decades, eons, neither of them  _ daring  _ to say a word; Trevor didn’t want to get his shit rocked again, he supposed Brandon could’ve said the same. In all of their years of rivalry and hatred, they’d never gotten into a fight. Trevor now wondered why he threw the first punch,  _ why  _ the rage took over his autonomy, why--

“Why?” Brandon echoed Trevor’s thoughts, and he looked up, toward the source of the voice, to see Brandon looking right back at him. He couldn’t make out the expression in his eyes. “Why’d you fucking hit me?”

Trevor didn’t want to speak. But he knew he owed Brandon an answer, as much as he hated the thought. So with a sigh, he explained, “You were fucking with Rowan. She’s my sister. I can’t stand for that.”

“I wasn’t fucking with her,” Brandon said immediately after the last syllable left Trevor’s mouth, a defensive tone in his voice, and he sat up taller in his seat. “I was telling her something she didn’t want to hear, and she shut me out. Like always.”

“What do you mean, like always?” Trevor shot back, matching his posture, “Rowan doesn’t talk to you. She hates you. The fuck do you mean, like always?”

Brandon scoffed, slouching back in his seat, shoving his hands in his sweatshirt pocket. “You wouldn’t get it. It doesn’t matter. You got your punches in without knowing the story, who knows what you’d do if you did know?”

Trevor wanted to argue, to beat the shit out of him for the truth, but he was tired and his cheek was swelling and he just  _ couldn’t.  _ He shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the drywall, with the scuffs and marks of an aged building. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe away the stress underneath, trying to forget the sight of a bloody boy, something  _ he  _ caused. He never liked hurting people, even Brandon, the one he hated most. But today, he did. And today, he was ashamed.

After a long silence, Trevor interjected, saying, “I’m sorry.” It’s something he never thought he would say to Brandon, but he felt it was necessary in this situation. He hated saying it, but the better part of him knew he had to. He just  _ had  _ to.

Brandon didn’t respond for a while. Trevor thought he’d broken him, or pissed him off beyond belief, or sent him into a sort of anaphylactic shock, but Brandon flipped the shock to Trevor by saying, “I’m sorry, too. For all of it.”

Brandon had never said those words to Trevor. He never thought he’d hear them from the former’s mouth, but he  _ did,  _ and it was both upsetting and exciting, angering and comforting. He was genuinely speechless, and he let out a surprised chuckle, his eyes moving to the ceiling.

Neither of them said anything after that, and for a long time afterwards.

Principal Harris came in after far too long, and, in short, suspended them for three days, sentenced them to fifteen hours community service, and set a minimum of B-minuses in order to not be held back for  _ another  _ senior year. Neither of them were happy about it, per say, but things could’ve been a lot worse. They all knew that.

They were dismissed early from school, and since their routes were similar, the pair walked side by side down Main Street, dried blood on their faces and black eyes forming. Trevor’s headphones broke during the fight, so he had no distractions from his current situation. His jaw was set in stone, muscles tense, eyes strained ahead in a perfect line. Trevor had no clue what was happening. The boy he’d hated all of his life, who he just beat the shit out of,  _ and had gotten the shit beat out of him by,  _ accompanied him on his walk home, in calmness. Nothing was making sense, at all. Reality was altered today; hell, maybe this was some cross-faded dream and he’d wake up alone in the bathtub, welcomed back to the reality he’d been accustomed to for as long as he could remember. But he was  _ here,  _ he was on semi-speaking terms with Brandon Darrow, and his entire life was a fucking lie.

“Do you want to come over?”

Brandon’s words were quick and near forced, and Trevor grimaced, stopping in his tracks. “What the fuck? No, no I don’t.” He didn’t. Trevor was pretty sure Brandon would tie him up in his basement and fucking murder him if he did.

Brandon looked him up and down and then let out a sigh, hands snaking right back into his pockets. “Whatever,” was all he gave, before pivoting his heel and walking off without another word. Trevor just stood there, trying to process what had happened. If he had his car right now, he’d probably run Brandon over for being  _ such  _ a smug asshole, but his dad needed his car today and Trevor wasn’t ready to be put into prison for first degree murder, so he decided against it. Trevor wasn’t about to walk alongside him again, so he turned the other way and started to Sean’s house, feeling…

_ confused. _

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is gonna b fun i hope.. dis is dedicated to DFIAGC (saz mikki liv and erin) as well as all my t@gged muties on twitter hAHah. go follow me doe @filmwyatt thank u <33 new chapter tonight? tomorrow? who knows


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